Look What You Lost
by buggaboo1
Summary: “It was almost over, you know. A few more minutes, and you would have been free. A few more weeks, and I would have not been your student any more. It was almost over.” One-shot.


This story is now completely canon-blasted, so please consider it AU! :0)

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Look what you lost

It had been a year since the battle had been pitched in this very spot, the battle that had marked the end of the Dark Lord's reign. They had buried the dead here – side by side, under granite headstones that reduced their lives to a name and a few dates.

This grave had the look of not having been visited for a long time. Weeds had overgrown the brick-lined edges. Some well-meaning soul must have felt mercy at the barren sight – the only flowers were a spray of pink silk carnations stuck haphazardly into the soft ground. It brought a bitter smile to her face – it was obvious that whoever had placed the flowers had not known him very well. _Pink carnations_. She snorted.

The sun was shining, reflecting in silver ripples on the surface of the lake. She could feel it warm on her back through the thin fabric of her summer dress. Kneeling down on the ground, she made a sweeping gesture. "Look what you lost," she whispered. "Look how beautiful it is."

She started to pull out the grass and the weeds that were starting to overrun the mound of dirt. "Why did you do it?" she asked. "Why did you have to go all Gryffindor in the end? You, of all people?" She had seen him fight in that last hour, abandoning his customary prudence, throwing caution recklessly to the wind. He had torn off his mask, so that everyone could see who he was and what he wasn't.

"It was almost over, you know. A few more minutes, and you would have been free. A few more weeks, and I would have not been your student any more. It was almost over."

The weeds disposed of, she pulled the basket she had brought with her over to her side. Small ivy cuttings were nestled in moist fabric, wrapped carefully, to keep the roots from drying out. With her fingers, she made a hole in the ground, set a small plant inside, then patted down the soil around it firmly.

"You put yourself between us and those that would have killed us. You tried to save us, yet again. Didn't you think _you_ were worth saving?" Tears were running down her face now. When she tried to wipe them away, her fingers left dirty smudges on her cheeks.

"You know, I always wondered if that final act of heroism they praise you for now was really the most cowardly thing you ever did. If you simply didn't see a future worth living for. If you simply saw the years stretching out as bleakly before you as your past stretched out behind you." She carefully placed another plant in the ground.

"It was almost over. I would have finally been free to tell you I loved you. There would have been no more obligations, no more roles to play. There could have been kisses, and arms around you, fingertips touching your cheek. There could have been laughter again, and someone to talk to, someone who cared more about you than about anyone else in the world. We could have left this place, started over somewhere else. I would have loved you, if you would have let me…" Her voice caught as she placed the last ivy plant near the foot of the grave.

She pulled out the pink silk carnations, and threw them on top of the pile of weeds. They didn't belong here. Then, she carefully took the last plant out of the basket. It was different from the others. Some short, prickly canes stuck up from the rootstock, a few dark green leaves sprouted. It didn't look like much. She dug a hole with both hands, close to the headstone.

"You barely lived a third of the life you should have had. There could have been eighty years more, a hundred years more. Years of sunsets and sunrises, and good books to read, and peace and quiet. Late spring was always my favorite time of year. I would have loved to share it with you…look what you lost." Her voice was barely more than a whisper. As her tears splashed on her hands, she nestled the plant into its new home. When she had finished, she straightened up, and rubbed the dirt from her hands.

Before leaving, she turned around one last time. "I miss you so much. I wish you would have stayed…"

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A few months later, after visiting the memorial for the war heroes, a group of visitors walked solemnly and aimlessly through the cemetery. Two of them stopped in front of one of the graves. "Severus Snape," one of them read. "1960 – 1998. He didn't live very long, did he?"

The other shook his head. "Many that rest here lived even shorter lives."

"Yes, but look." He pointed to the bush of roses, roses so dark red they looked almost black, a striking sight against the background of green ivy. " I know that rose. _Love-in-Mourning_ - it's quite rare, you know. Someone must have loved him...loved him very much."

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This is, if you will, a songfic, inspired by "Sweet Old World" by Lucinda Williams.

Read it ? Review! (Pretty please?)


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